


Get Up and Let Go

by KayLingLing7



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Fluff and Smut, Includes Art, Inspired by Art, Lingerie, M/M, Mirror Sex, NSFW, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Smut, kind of selfcest?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2019-01-31 13:47:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12683139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KayLingLing7/pseuds/KayLingLing7
Summary: He takes a few steps back from the mirror, strikes a pose, takes the full look in. He smiles at himself in the mirror, a smirk really, tilted to the side, his eyes hooded and pupils dilated in the dim light.He'd fuck him.He knows Otabek would too, would honestly fuck him even if he was a hot mess, but today is special. He wants to look extra good. He wants Otabek to walk into the room and have his fucking jaw on the floor.Otabek secures a good deal at work, and Yuri decides to reward him.





	Get Up and Let Go

**Author's Note:**

> I started this thing in May and then just left it to rot for a few months before I suddenly got this urge to finish it now. Note that Yuri and Otabek are about 10 years older in this fic and have been dating for a /very/ long time. 
> 
> Also warning for NSFW art in this fic, so careful if you're reading in public.

Yuri looks himself over in the mirror, chin tilted up, his hair in a braid cascading over one shoulder. He stares at his reflection for a long moment before sighing, long fingers coming up to undo his hair.

He puts it up in a messy bun and stares at himself again. Otabek love his hair up like this - he has a Pavlovian's response to it at this point, growing aroused and ready for rough sex because Yuri _always_ puts his hair up when he knows things will get messy (it’s inconvenient at times, when Yuri does it at practice or when they go jogging together, but he can’t say he doesn’t enjoy seeing the effect on his boyfriend).

But, no - somehow today this isn't the hair that works best on him.

He sighs again, getting frustrated now, pulling his hair loose with a quick tug. He's over this at this point, maybe it's all a big mistake, maybe he should just go get changed. But when he looks at himself in the mirror again, his hair loose and messy around his shoulders, he realises that, yes, this is perfect.

He smiles at himself in the mirror, a smirk really, tilted to the side, his eyes hooded and pupils dilated in the dim light.

He'd fuck him.

He knows Otabek would too, would honestly fuck him even if he was a hot mess, but today is special. He wants to look extra good. He wants Otabek to walk into the room and have his fucking jaw on the floor.

He takes a few steps back from the mirror, strikes a pose, takes the full look in. Yeah, his hair loose around his shoulders goes perfectly with the soft colour of his lingerie, the lilac lacey thing he had bought after Mila had dragged him shopping with her. He had been dragged into the shop by her mannish strength, and had sat seething while she shopped, but this number, a lace bralette with extra straps around the bottom and shoulders with matching underwear, straps around the thighs, had caught his eye. He’d gone back to the shop alone the next day, his hood up and pulled down to the eyebrows, paying the clerk with the exact amount in cash before fleeing.

He’s relieved it fits perfectly. The lace leaves little to the imagination, showing off his nipples and piercings, the bottoms snug and perfect around his ass and thighs. His dick ad balls look a bit ridiculous, attempting to escape the underwear at every movement, but he figures there’s no way around that.

He steps back and flops ungracefully onto the bed, still contemplating his reflection. He’d moved the mirror earlier, brought it out from the bathroom to perch it against the wall directly in front of the bed. The placement was perfect.

He glanced over at the bedside clock. 7:47pm. Otabek should be home soon from the dinner with his colleagues any moment now (Yuri had been invited, but had played up boredom in return for staying home to prepare for this). It was a big night. After having retired from skating two years ago Otabek had gone into music production, and today he had just landed the biggest deal of his new career – and a giant pay check to go with it.

Yuri wanted to spoil him.

He was already turned on, half hard, both from his own reflection and the anticipation of Otabek arriving soon. Should only be another fifteen minutes, tops.

He supposes he could start without him.

He makes a blind grab for under one of the pillows and pulls out the small tube of lube he knew would be there. He uncaps it and warms it over his fingers, folding his legs beneath himself and pushing them open wide. His dick is already dribbling a wet spot under in his underwear, her frenum piercing glinting below the lace. Fuck. He looks hot.

He drags a hand down over the underwear, shivering slightly at the pressure on his taint, and dips his fingers under the band, circling his hole with his index finger. He rests his head against his shoulder, watching himself, transfixed.

He turns and grabs his phone from the bedside and swipes the camera open with one hand, positioning it to get a good photo. He wants to send it to Otabek, but he also doesn’t want to ruin the surprise. He contemplates it, biting his lip as he pushes his finger a little harder against himself, before switching the camera to video mode. He plays up his voice, bites his lip hard, arches his back – plays the role of a porn star for the camera, pushing one finger, then two, then three into himself, withering on them like an animal in heat. After a few minutes he presses stop on the video, switches the screen off without a second glance, and drops his phone to the floor, where it probably skids under the bed. He’ll send them to Otabek later.

He continues to fuck himself on his fingers, lost in the feeling of it, the ache in his cock from being neglected as he pushes hard against his prostate. This is the part he hates most about sex, the whole preparing yourself thing. It’s more fun when Otabek does it. But then again, it’s also fun when Otabek realises he’s prepared already. A thrill runs up Yuri’s spine. He can’t wait to see his reaction.

He’s still slowly thrusting into himself when he hears the door open. Otabek makes no sound of greeting, no announcement of his return, but Yuri can hear him moving around in the front room, presumably kicking off his shoes and jacket. Any minute now he’ll figure out that Yuri isn’t in the kitchen, or the sitting room, or the bathroom. He’ll grumble while he goes about switching off all the lights, and then finally come into the bedroom, where he’ll find Yuri, and the lingerie, and the mirror... Yuri bites his lip and throws his head back, his back arching, thrusting his fingers into himself a little harder, gyrating against his own forearm. Finally, reluctantly, he pulls them out and moves them to ghost over his cock. Can’t spoil the surprise.

He hears the click of the light switch, sees the overhead lights come alive through closed eyelids, hears the aborted intake of breath at the doorway. He ignores it all for a moment longer, letting a heady gasp fall from between his lips, fingers playing over the balls of his piercing.

“I- Yuri-“ he hears, the words sounding like they were ripped from Otabek’s throat, strangled and broken. Yuri slowly opens one eye, then the other, rolling his head onto his shoulder, looking towards the door where his boyfriend is standing, still as a dead man, mouth agape.

“Beka,” he lets out, making his voice sound higher and breathier than necessary, “Congratulations on your deal.”

A moment later Otabek is on him, pushing him further onto the bed, pushing his back against the sheets and pressing his legs open wider.

“ _Yuri_ -” he gasps, grabbing Yuri’s face between both hands and ravishing his mouth. Yuri clothes his eyes, hands going up to the soft short hair at the base of Otabek’s neck, falling into the kiss. It’s all tongue and teeth and slobber, clothed hips gyrating into his ass. He can feel Otabek hardening against him with every thrust, and he smirks into the kiss, thrilled with the power he has over his boyfriend, playing up his noises louder and higher than strictly necessary.

Otabek breaks away from him, sitting up between his legs. His breathing is irregular, his dark eyes darker with dilated pupils, a rare flush over his cheeks. He stares down at Yuri, wrecked and breathless.

“Yuri, what- where did you get this?” He finally asks, eyes flitting around his body, warm hands moving up both thighs to play at the straps on the underwear.

Yuri smiles, bringing a hand up to caress his clavicle before slowly bringing it down along the strap of the bra, down over the lace, stopping to rest over a pert, pierced nipple. “Hm? I bought it at some lingerie shop Mila forced me into. You like?” He punctuates the question with a soft twist of his nipple through the sheer fabric, arching his back slightly and letting out a fast exhale.

“Yes- I. Fuck, Yuri, you look _amazing_.”

Yuri bites his lip around a pleased smirk. “Yeah? I thought so too. I was admiring myself, earlier, before you got here.” He nods in the direction of the mirror he’d pulled into the bedroom, and Otabek raises an eyebrow, tearing his eyes away from Yuri with great difficulty. When he sees the mirror the air catches in his throat.

Yuri pulls himself into a sitting position, leaning over Otabek to rest his head on his shoulder, admiring their reflection. “It’s nice, isn’t it?” He asks, running a hand up over Otabek’s chest to his top button, slowly undoing it. “I was just sitting here, lonely while you were at dinner with your _friends_ , and imagined you were here with me instead.” He turns his head, runs his lips and the barest hint of teeth over Otabek’s ear, relishing the full body shiver he gets in return. “Imaging you here behind me, your big hands on me, touching my chest, and my cock, filling me _up_ with those thick fingers of yours.”

He gasps the words into Otabek’s ear before licking over the shell of it, his hand having unbuttoned the last button of his shirt and ghosting down over the tent in his trousers.

Otabek swears.

In a quick motioned he’s turned back around and over Yuri, Yuri’s wrists thrown over his head and clamped against the sheets under Otabek’s large hands. Otabek’s breathing is hard and rugged, panting over him, and Yuri can’t help smirking after his initial shock.

“You fucking tease.” Otabek growls, pushing his pelvis against Yuri’s backside, receiving a loud gasp in response. “This is why you didn’t want to come out tonight. Not because you had a headache, and ‘my colleagues are fucking boring’. It was so you could lay a trap for me.”

Yuri rolls his eyes. “To be fair, your colleagues _are_ fucking boring.”

“You’re. A. Fucking. Tease.” Otabek grits out, before he falls forwards to smash their lips together again.

Yuri struggles half heartedly against the grip around his wrists while they kiss, before giving in, compliant, opening his mouth to let Otabek devour him for the inside out. He feels one hand come off his wrists, hears Otabek struggle as he undoes his belt and fly with one hand, and can’t help gasping into Otabek’s mouth.

They break apart again, and Yuri almost feels dizzy with need, watching at Otabek tears his shirt and trousers off and onto the floor. Then he’s manhandled as Otabek has rearranges them on the bed, Otabek against the headboard with Yuri pulling into his lap, his back to Otabek’s chest. He only registers what’s happening when he sees their reflection across the room. He grins.

“Oh? You like my new layout, Beka?” Yuri asks, stretching his neck long for Otabek to kiss along his throat. His eyes flutter closed as his lips ghost over his pulse point, but he continues, “I know you like watching me, Beka. You know, I found those videos and pictures I sent you, all the way back when I was nineteen.” Otabek stills behind him, but Yuri continues, nonplussed, his own hand slowly trailing down his stomach towards his groin. “I was snooping on your laptop, trying to find some good porn to get off to. And imagine my surprise when the only thing I could find was _myself_.”

He opens his eyes and meets Otabek’s in the mirror, his eyes wide, his mouth gapping open. He looks like a deer caught in headlights. Yuri keeps the eye contact between them in the reflection, never looking away as he slowly palms over himself as he continues, “I have to admit though, the videos were good. I had a good eye for angles. And they were hot too, I was so flexible back then, wasn’t I?” he hums in agreement with himself. “I came like three times while watching those videos.”

Otabek makes a sound behind him like he had just swallowed his own tongue. Yuri smirks, watching to see what Otabek will say.

He has to wait what feels like a full minute, while Otabek gasps and gulps behind him, before asking, voice husky, “You watched yourself?”

Yuri nodded his head once. “Hmm.”

“And you... Came? Three times?”

“Hmm.” Another confirmation, this time with an arch to his back, pressing his ass against Otabek’s cock behind him. Otabek swears.

“So you- watched old sexts of yourself on my laptop - and then bought some lingerie - and put a mirror in our bedroom so I could watch myself fuck you? So – you could watch yourself be fucked?” His voice sounds like every drop of moisture in his mouth has evaporated.

Yuri sighs, pressing back against Otabek’s chest, humming once again in confirmation. “Good surprise?” he asks, teasing, making eye contact in the mirror again.

Otabek licks his lips, “Fuck, Yura, you’ll be the death of me.” He says, before pressing forwards and _biting_ Yuri’s shoulder.

Yuri’s back really arches at the sensation, the gasp he lets out loud and high and not exaggerated in the slightest.

Otabek’s hand moves under the pillowing to find the lube, blinding reaching for it for a few moments (it was probably under the bed with his phone, at this point) before giving up and stretching to get the other container of it they keep in the drawer. Yuri let’s him struggle, enjoying the kisses and bites being littered over his shoulders, slowly moving a hand up and down over his cock. It’s not a lot of pressure yet, and he’s _dying_ for proper friction, but he knows the longer he waits the better it will be.

He hears the cap pop open on the lube, and the noise it makes as the liquid is squirted onto Otabek’s hand. He opens his eyes and watches in the mirror, breathless with anticipation, as Otabek’s hand movies down and fits under the band of his underwear, fingers moving to touch at what he expects to be Yuri’s tight untouched hole, only for his finger to push in with no resistance.

Yuri watches Otabek’s face as his sex-clouded brain takes a moment to figure out what’s happening before his eyes widen, his mouth going slack, and then his expression suddenly hardens, his eyes taking on a feral intensity to them. Yuri feels his whole body freeze.

 “Yuri.” He then growls, right up against his ear. A second, and then a third, finger pushing up into his tight heat, unrelenting and thick. “You fucking whore, you fingered yourself while I was out, didn’t you?” His fingers press hard and heavy against his prostate, causing Yuri to moan long and loud. “Making me think you were waiting patiently for me in your pretty lingerie, but you were getting off without me, looking at yourself in the mirror like a little slut.”

Yuri gasps, heat swelling in his stomach. He talks big game at Otabek, but when Otabek starts calling him names his mind just turns to goo.

Otabek continues, ramming his fingers up into Yuri’s heat, his cock pressing through the thin fabric of the underwear to thrust between his cheeks, “It didn’t feel right, though, did it? Your delicate little hands can’t do what mine can, can they, Yurochka?”

He growls, and Yuri gasps, head falling back against his shoulder. “No, your fingers are so good, Beka, was thinking about them while I fingered myself, thought –” he cuts himself off.

“What did you think about, Yuri?” he demands.

“About-“ he gasps out, eyes rolling back. “about you thick fat cock ramming into me again and again. Watching it disappear inside me.”

Otabek groans behind him, mouthing at his neck. “Fuck, Yura. Condom or no condom?”

Yuri groans, so ready. “No condom. Want you to mess me up. Ruin my pretty new clothing, _Beka_ -!”

Without another second wasted Otabek removes his hand from between Yuri’s legs and lifts him higher, a hand fisting the base of his own cock while his other hand moves to push the underwear to the side. He pushes into Yuri without resistance, not even needing extra lube with how covered in precum his cock already is. Yuri forces his eyes to stay open, watching everything in the mirror, transfixed.

Otabek starts up a good slow pace, pushing deep into him. Yuri, usually one to grit his teeth and demand a hard fast fuck, simple lies back against Otabek’s chest and watches the show, enjoying the slow friction of Otabek inside him, the heavy breathing in his ear.

“Fuck, Yura, you’re so good to me.” Otabek gasps into Yuri’s hair. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

Yuri keens, pushing back on Otabek's cock. "I should be asking you the same question."

Otabek bites his ear. "You're so perfect, Yura. I can't believe you even wanted to be my friend, back when we met for a second time, and now look at you, making me the happiest man in the world."

"Hmm, Beks," Yuri moans, both at the words and the feeling of Otebek bottoming out.

"You look so good." Otabek says, staring at them in the reflection. Yuri takes a moment to realise his eyes have fallen shut, and another moment to figure out how to open them again.

He has to agree he looks good like this, lounging back on his boyfriend's broad chest, cock hard and leaking in the panties he's still wearing. He watches as Otabek's hands press into the skin of his hips, hopefully pushing hard enough to leave bruises on Yuri's easily marked skin. Yuri writhes at the thought.

"How many times do you think you can come for me, Yura?" Otabek asks, hot in his ear as he slowly starts to grind his cock into Yuri. "If I try hard enough, do you think you can have one of those pretty prostate orgasms of yours?" With precision that can only come with years of dating Otabek thrusts in, perfectly hitting Yuri's prostate as he goes. Yuri moans, starting to pick himself up and grind back down over Otabek's cock, ridding him slowly.

"I love it when you have those, you know," Otabek continues, as he sets up a steady and unrelenting pace, the hands on Yuri's hips guiding him down as he hits Yuri's prostate with every thrust. "I love the way you clench around me, and the noises you make, god, and the look on your face when it happens, like you're surprised at how good it feels every goddamn time."

They've only just started and already Yuri feels like he's losing his mind, falling back onto Otabek's cock as fast and hard as he possibly can with the restriction of Otabek's guidance on his hips. Otabek grunts behind him, finally getting the hint to go harder, go faster, fucking right up against Yuri's prostate and filling him with that full perfect - right there - God, fuck, _right there_ \- feeling.

Yuri gasps, sudden and loud, as his back arches and the shock waves ride through his whole body, wave after wave after wave of pure pleasure. Otabek keeps fucking him through it, moaning out praises that Yuri doesn't have the brain capacity to even understand, too focused on his high.

When he comes down to his senses he looks in the mirror, watches the way Otabek pounds into him as best he can from this angle, sees his own cock still hard and pressed close to his stomach.

"You're so amazing when you come, Yura." Otabek says, kissing Yuri's neck.

Yuri hums. "Did you like it?"

Otabek sighs, hot and wet against Yuri's skin. "God, it's the best feeling in the fucking world, Yura."

"Better than coming inside me?" Yuri teases, grinding himself down hard against Otabek's pelvis.

Otabek swears, holding Yuri down for a moment. "Okay, it's a close second."

With a quick movement Yuri's not prepared for at all Otabek adjusts them into a new position, pushing Yuri forwards to he's on his knees and elbows with Otabek behind him.

"Is this okay?" Otabek asks, caressing Yuri's ass fondly. "I want to give it to you harder, if that's alright with you."

Yuri stares at them in the reflection. He doesn't usually like this position, as good as it feels, because he likes to see Otabek's face when they fuck. But like this, with the mirror in front of them, he can watch Otabek's face _and_ his own. It's kind of magical.

"We're going to buy a mirror especially for this room tomorrow." Yuri states. "Maybe one for the ceiling too."

Otabek quirks an eyebrow, their gazes meeting in the mirror. "What?"

"Yes, Beka, this position is perfect." Yuri rolls his eyes. "Now be a good boy and fuck the brains out of me, okay?”

Otabek huffs out a laugh, giving one hard slap to Yuri's ass before he starts pounding into him, hard and relenting.

Yuri gasps and writhes under him, trying to keep his head up and his eyes open with great difficulty. Otabek starts to hit his prostate perfectly again, and god it'd be good to come from that again, but his cock has been so neglected, and it'd feel _really_ good to finally have any kind of friction on it, anything at all.

With that in mind Yuri tries to move closer to the mattress, trying to rut his cock between his stomach and the bedding. He's almost got it when he feels a sharp tug at his hair, and gasps.

"Oh, don't you fucking dare." Otabek growls, his hand clamped around Yuri's hair, pulling him into a deep arch. "You're not getting yourself off like some dirty animal rutting against the nearest object without my say so, _Yura_."

Yuri gasps again, tears building in his eyes. It feels so fucking good, his scalp tingling, his back stretched so far, his prostrate being nailed perfectly with every movement.

"Beka, Beka, Beka-“

“What do you want, Yura?”

“Please, Beka, I'm so fucking close, _please_ let me come."

"See?" Otabek says, slowing his thrusts, hand still firm in Yuri’s hair. "All you have to do is _ask_."

With that Otabek tugs Yuri's hair again, pulling him up until he's on his knees, his back again Otabek's front, with Otabek's hand pressed hard over his pecs, the other on his hip.

"Fuuuuck, Beka, you're _killing me_." Yuri moans, pressing back against Otabel's warmth.

Otabek only hums in response, holding Yuri close to him as he thrusts in. Yuri moans, eyes closed, too over come with how good it feels to even try to watch them any longer. So lost in it that he doesn’t realise Otabek’s hand has left his hip until it’s squeezing his cock.

Yuri gasps, convulsing in Otabek’s hold, as he comes quick and hard and relentlessly. He’s lost in the shuddering high of orgasm, hearing Otabek swear behind him before he too is stilling, and Yuri can feel the gush of warmth inside him, filling him up perfectly, making his orgasm even more intense, if that were even possible.

Once he starts to get a grip on reality again he opens his eyes to find himself on Otabek’s lap, back to chest, with Otabek staring at him in the mirror, his hands rubbing circles into Yuri’s skin. There’s a fond look on his face, a small crooked smile that melts Yuri’s heart whenever he sees it.

They don’t say anything for a long moment, just making eye contact in the mirror while they catch their breath. Finally Otabek moves, kissing the back of Yuri’s neck before he pulls out with a grunt, settling Yuri down on the bed. He kneels over him and smiles, brushing hair out of Yuri’s face before kissing his forehead.

“I don’t deserve you.” He finally says, thumb still ghosting over Yuri’s forehead, that smile still on his face.

Yuri rolls his eyes.

“No, I mean it.” Otabek says. “You’re prefect.”

Yuri can feel himself start to blush at the praise. He smacks Otabek’s hand away from his face lightly so he can turn away, a small frown on his face as he tries to blink back tears, overwhelmed as he always is after a good rough fuck. “You always say that, like you didn’t fight tooth and nail to become friends with me, like you didn’t sit through my angry teenage phase for 4 fucking years, like you didn’t sit through my grandfather’s funeral with me, like you don’t give me everything I ever wanted and more.”

“Yuri-“

Yuri turned again, gulping down the lump in his throat. “Don’t say you don’t deserve me, when there’s no one else on this god forsaken earth I would rather be with.”

Otabek stares at Yuri for a long moment, mouth open and eyes wide in shock, before his expression goes back to that fond smile of his, and his hand goes up to brush the tears from under Yuri’s eyes. He leans down and kisses Yuri’s lips softly before pulling back up again.

“Okay, you’re right. I love you.”

Yuri sniffs. “I love you too. Now go get a cloth and clean me up, I’m disgusting.”

Otabek chuckles, but does as he’s told, padding over to the bathroom to fetch a warmth clothe and coming back to wipe over Yuri’s skin with it. He then goes about peeling the clothing off of Yuri’s body (“Fuck, Yuri, this has so many straps, how did you even get it _on_?” “Oh my fucking god Beka it’s not rocket science just get it _off_.”) before he can finally get back into bed again, spooning Yuri from behind.

Yuri sighs, once they’re lying together, warm and snug in their shared bed. His eyes slowly start to fall closed.

“Hey, Yuri?”

Yuri whines. “What?”

“You know you’re everything I’ve ever wanted too, right?”

Yuri scoffs. “Of course, dumbass. Now go to sleep.”

* * *

In the morning Yuri fishes his phone out from under the bed and is sure to send the video of himself from the night before to Otabek, hoping he’ll get it while in his morning meeting at work, before he starts shopping for a nice big mirror to put up on the wall facing their bed. He’ll think about adding a mirror to the ceiling, too.

**Author's Note:**

> I dunno if this fic is any good or not but I had to post a YOI fic at some point and this is what happened???  
> Please check out my [Tumblr](https://plotindevelopment.tumblr.com/) and [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/KayLingLing7)
> 
> [If you like the art you can reblog it here!](http://smutindevelopment.tumblr.com/post/156362245246/nsfw-prompt-26-lingerie-tried-a-softer-variety)


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